Meeting Again
by She Is The Lia
Summary: Thalia is immortal. Sometimes she comes across different people that she knows, or rather, used to know. She's seen them before in different forms. As Luke, as Percy, as Annabeth, as Leo, as Piper. She misses them, but she can only see their reincarnations. Reincarnation fic.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: Do I look like I own PJO? Wait, you can't see me. But if you could, you'd know I ain't Rick Riordan. So, in other words, don't own PJO.**

 **Warnings: Abuse, Swearing n stuff.**

 **So, onward!**

* * *

Thalia remembers a moment after she became a Hunter of Artemis, when Artemis pulls her aside and whispers into her ear. "You would be the only one left." And Thalia doesn't need her to elaborate.

"I know," she whispered back, watching Annabeth bite her lip and Percy's hand shake slightly. "I know I'll be the only one left."

Artemis looked puzzled. "Aren't you afraid? Most that join my Hunt seldom care for those outside their sisters. They almost never see anyone they love die. That'll happen to you. Aren't you afraid of the day they die?"

Thalia smiled, and she said, "Well, I best appreciate the days I have left, huh? They grow up too fast!" She crooned at the demigods. Artemis laughed, patted her on the shoulder, and slipped away with the grace that only the goddess of the Hunt can have.

Thalia smiled sadly at Percy, whose arm is around Annabeth. "I'll regret it. I know I'll regret my choices the day you all leave me. But it's the way the Fates planned it. I can't escape from fate." She gave them a last sad smile before turning away.

 **-Years later-**

"You're the only one left." Nico Di Angelo tells her, brown eyes that still tell of pain looks into hers, pining her to the wall. "Did you know?" They both know what he's referring to.

"Yes. I knew. I knew this would happen the day I accepted Artemis's offer. But, who'd ever thought you'll be the last?" She says teasingly, electric blue eyes glinting with youth and recklessness.

Nico shakes his head and chuckles. "You're still the same. Exactly the same. I'll say you haven't grown at all."

"Hey!" She hits him playfully on the head. "But really the days when we were demigods seem like yesterday. When me and Luke were on the run from monsters, when I fought Luke, when I became a Hunter of Artemis, when Percy went missing and we were frantic, searching for him all day and all night, when Reyna tried to kill me. They seem like just yesterday. Sometimes, I think I prefer those days, when the gang was still together, pranking and bickering. Sometimes I wake up and think, 'Heck, Percy's gonna kill me for stealing that inhumanly comfortable shirt he has; I still have that book I borrowed from Annie hidden under the pile of junk in my tent'; sometimes I wake up and think, 'Holy shit, how'd I let Katie convince me to go to that weird nature thing she has every month on one of my few off days?' And then I realize they're no longer here, and somehow that realization hurts more than their death."

Nico blinks. "Holy shit, when'd you get so deep and stuff, Thals?"

She hits him. "When you grew old and rotted away in this hellhole you call an apartment."

"Hey!"

And suddenly they're transported eighty years back, when they bickered with the same ferocity as Annabeth read a book and Percy piped in with annoying comments occasionally.

A week later Nico Di Angelo dies and she's the only one left.

 **-Years Later-**

Thalia has no idea what she's doing in an old abandoned alley in the middle of the night comforting an exact replica of Luke Castellan. Well, technically it isn't the middle of the night. It's nearing dawn. But that isn't the point.

"Who're you?" The child asks, sniffling slightly.

Thalia's heart aches. He looks exactly like Luke, too similar for her liking. "I'm Thalia." She kneels down to his height. "Why are you hiding in this old alley?" She reaches a kind hand out to the boy. Thalia doesn't know why she's being so kind towards the boy, she had never liked kids, but something in her gut told her that this was no ordinary, annoying child. He was something more. And Thalia had learned to trust her gut instincts.

The boy flinches away from her like she'd waved a lit match in front of his face. "Ah…I'm sorry," He says guiltily, seeing the way Thalia's hand slowly withdraws. "It's just…" He stops, and Thalia sees fear in his features, fear that she recognizes. It had once been on Percy's face too, as well as hers. They were good at masking it, hiding their secret together against the world. No one ever knew of the other's pain except Percy and Thalia. Not even Annabeth. Just Percy and Thalia. The two cousins against the world. Thalia's heart stops. No, it can't be. Not him, not this boy, no…

She grabs his hand and pulls the child towards her. The child tenses, eyes closing in fear of a hit. Thalia feels cold at the boy's reaction. It confirms what she already knew. "You've been abused," She says, and somehow saying it out loud sounds worse.

The child's blue eyes snap open, and they stare into hers, the intensity of his gaze only matches one other person she knew. And that person had betrayed her. "No!" The 'no' comes too fast. Thalia's throat constricts.

"You have," She says again.

"No, no!" The child shakes his blond head vehemently. "No! Mummy loves me, even though she does scream and throw stuff occasionally." The boy's voice becomes weaker, unsure. "She loves me…" Thalia holds the child's gaze firmly. "She does…" And the young boy throws himself into Thalia's arms and breaks down. "I love Mommy. Why doesn't Mommy love me? She screams and shouts and calls me names. I just want Mommy to love me like I love her. Is that too much to ask?"

Thalia pats the boy's back awkwardly. She'd never been one to care much about feelings. Those were Piper's thing. But she remembers what Percy had told her once, on one of the rare moments he was serious. ' _Just say what you think, Thals. You've never been one to talks about mushy feelings, and neither have I. And Zombie Dude over there. Perhaps it's a Big Three thing. But whatever. The point is, Pinecone Face, that you can't pretend to understand someone else's feelings. If you don't understand them, you don't. But if you do, try and ease their burden. Take their burden on too. Share some of their weight. Like I did with you, like you did with me. After all, sharing is caring.'_ Then, Percy had grinned and tried to steal her food. She had never thought that again. Perhaps it was time to share with someone else what she had done with only Percy.

"Show me your scars, I'll show you mine." Thalia blurts out before she can stop herself. "I'm the same as you. I've been abused too. I know what you're going through. The rotten feeling, that you've been sullied, that you aren't worthy of another's love and care. But you do. No human being deserves to grow up, thinking like that. No one deserves that." She pauses and catches her breath, looking at the boy who seems dumbfounded.

She makes her tone softer. "Show me your scars, I'll show you mine."

The boy stares up at her, and for a second, Thalia is afraid, afraid that she had told this random boy her best kept secret and that he would refuse to show her. And then he nods slowly and pulls up his shirt. "This bruise here," he begins softly, and Thalia smiles slightly. And then he looks up at her again. Their eyes meet, and Thalia is drawn in by those blue eyes, by the depth of them, by the way they look into hers, trustingly, gratefully, as though she is the only one who had ever cared. And maybe she is. For a second, they seem to share a connection, a bond, way deeper than the two of them should ever have, and it feels old and familiar and pure, like the way she would feel when Luke's eyes met hers. For a second, there seems to be electricity crackling between them, and Thalia wonders if her powers had activated and there actually is electricity. But Thalia doesn't want to look away from those captivating eyes to check.

And then all too soon, the moment is over, and they tear their gazes away from each other. And then they go back to being a lone Hunter of Artemis and a poor, abused mortal boy in an alley, revealing their deepest, darkest secrets, and they are dirty again.

* * *

 **Hi! It's me! Anyway, this is a reincarnation fic and the mortal boy is Luke, if you couldn't tell. I wanted to make a series of Thalia meeting the reincarnations of other heroes: Percy, Annabeth, Leo, Piper (I think that'll be interesting. Besides, the spotlight's always on Percy and Annabeth anyway.) I can't think of anything else to add to this chapter for now. Maybe I'll lengthen it later, but I'm stuck now. Anyway, reviews to tell me if I should continue? 5 reviews=next chapter and lotsa lotsa love from this author!**


	2. Chapter 2

Anyone who knows Thalia Grace will never in a million years imagine her in a children's hospital, holding a teddy bear with one hand and telling a story. But there she was, in a hospital, clutching a teddy bear and doing exactly that. Thalia groans silently as she read the stupid story about random blue and yellow paint that hugged and became green. Jeez, are story books for children always so stupid?

She tries to remain good-natured as a sniffling little kid runs up to her and hugs her leg, looking up at her with big, disbelieving eyes. "Are little blue and little yellow gonna stay like that forever?"

Thalia grunts. How on Earth would she know? Well, you did read the book, her mind retorts. Great, she was now having a lovely conversation with herself. Thalia sighs and turns back to the little kid, only to discover her missing. Huh? She looks around. The little kid gestures widely at the book and says something about little green or something like that, and every single child promptly bursts into tears. What? Thalia shakes her head. She really hates kids.

Thalia puts the book and the teddy bear down and stands up. Little kids mob her, asking about 'little green' and crying some more. What the Tartarus is that? She hands the book to the nearest kid and appoints him as the official storyteller. The kids turn their attention to him and all sit down obediently when Thalia gives an ear piercing whistle. They had learned the consequences of not listening to that whistle a while ago.

Thalia sighs, relieved, and takes a seat by a wall. How had she even been roped into this? Oh right, blame the long dead Daughter of Athena. On one of her few off days, Annabeth had made her promise to visit a children's hospital as a volunteer and read storybooks. Thalia had rejected her offer, of course, but that glare wasn't anything to be taken lightly.

And today is… Thalia gulps. Annabeth's death anniversary. She had felt like volunteering here would be, somehow, remembering Annabeth, honouring her memory in a way. She had never regretted anything more. Well, maybe except the one time she had—No. Stop, Thalia. Don't think of—

"Thalia?" A low pitched voice asks, and Thalia thinks of Percy as the scent of the sea fills her nostrils. But that's impossible. Percy is long dead.

Thalia turns around. The person in front of her is so, so similar to Percy it makes her heart ache in want of the simpler days she used to live, when all that was ever worried about was surviving. Tan skin. Tousled black hair. Lean and muscled body. The person's way too similar to Percy. No. She doesn't want to see Percy again in the features of this young man. No. Especially not when her last words to Percy were a screamed 'I hate you!' during a fight that had quickly escalated.

He had died the next day, fending off a monster from a Son of Hecate.

And then she looks into his eyes, and Thalia gives an almost inaudible gasp. Sea green eyes stare back at her in puzzlement. Thalia's knees feel weak. "Percy…" She manages to croak out weakly.

"No, I'm not Percy. I'm Pele. What kind of name is Percy, anyway?"

Thalia freezes. Percy had said that once too, when they were dozing off in the strawberry fields and were complaining about their names. _'Why'd my mum name me Thalia? Seriously?' 'Hey, my mom named me Perseus! That's worse! What kind of name is Percy, anyway? Have you seen all the weird looks I get when I tell mortals I'm named after some ancient Greek hero?'_

And in that instant, Thalia relaxes. This is Percy's reincarnation. She realizes, and the certainty in which she thinks that amazes her. "Pele?" She laughs. "That sounds weird. What about a normal, boring name like Peter? It'll be awesome and you'll be like Peter Pan."

"Hey," Percy—no, Pele,—pouts, and those large green eyes and that quivering lower lip almost make tears well up in her eyes, but she swallows and tries to blink them back. No. She won't cry, not in front of some mortal. But this is Percy, she reminds herself. Percy. Your cousin. Well, technically he isn't her cousin anymore but it doesn't matter. This is Percy.

And then she realizes that Percy—no, Pele,—is staring at her with concern in those sea green eyes, concern she knows well. It had been the look Percy gave her whenever she started shaking with flashbacks of darker days. Not pity, not fear, but concern, and the sight of it make her gut twist in agony. "What?" She mumbles, pretending not to see the concerned look he gave her.

"It's just that…" he starts, and then stops. "You're crying."

Thalia rubs at her eyes furiously. No! Why was she crying right now, of all times?

His voice is soft and comforting, the tone one uses to face a frightened animal. "Would you mind telling me why?"

Thalia feels like laughing. Because of you, she thinks, but doesn't say it. "Because of my cousin," She tells Percy—Pele, she really had to get used to that—with a hint of bitterness to her voice. _Who is you._

Percy tilts his head slightly. "Your cousin? Why?"

Thalia snorts, and says matter-of-factly, "He reminds me of you. He died."Her words echo in the empty hallway.

Percy's eyes are downcast. "Sorry, I didn't know," he whispers guiltily.

"No worries," She tries to laugh it off, but there's a part of Percy who's still in this Pele, and Pele—Percy—looks at her with suspicion. He doesn't probe. That was one of the things she loved most about her cousin. "So, why'd you call me?" She says with forced cheerfulness, and getting the light hearted tone out is too hard.

Percy regards her with something unreadable in his eyes that Thalia doesn't like. Percy was always like an open book. He wore his heart on his sleeve and you could tell almost everything he was feeling from his eyes. But sometimes, his eyes would close off, and what he was feeling would not be known. Thalia hates that.

"Oh, yes. I just wanted to confirm if you would be coming for the next session of storytelling, Thalia, since you don't really seem like someone who would volunteer to read storybooks to children."

Thalia feels warm inside. Even though she knows it's probably her Death-To-Barbie shirt and punk/goth clothes that gave it away, she allows herself to indulge in the fantasy of some remote part of Pele remembering her. "I won't come," she says, and this time her voice is stronger, firmer. "This was to honor a dead friend."

Percy looks at her for a second, then the mask he wears drops away. "I see." He sighs, and Thalia sees disappointment in his eyes.

"Why are you disappointed?" Thalia can't help but ask, and when Pele gives her that guarded look again, she hurriedly explains, "It's in your eyes. I can tell."

Pele relaxes, and Thalia is reminded of Percy in the way he slouches, and the way his hard features give way to softer lines. "It's just that…well, I like you." Thalia freezes for a second. He doesn't mean like as in, romantic like, does he? Thalia, like, and Percy should never go in the same sentence together. He's her cousin. She's in the Hunt. Just no.

"No!" Percy almost shouts at her. Thalia looks up, startled. "Sorry," he blushes, and continues, "But not the romantic type of like. I just get this feeling, that we've met before and that we're like, friends or cousins or something, cause you just feel so familiar."

Thalia freezes up and she prays to all the gods she can think of at that instant because she doesn't care that he's probably not supposed to remember her cause he went for rebirth and all but oh gods, yes! He remembers her! He must have seen the elation on her face, and asks, "Do I know you then?"

Thalia shrugs and says playfully, "Who knows? Heck, you might have been my cousin in your past life!" He doesn't know how true the statement is, she laughs to herself.

He shrugs too. "Well, life certainly works in mysterious ways. Maybe the Fates planned it this way. They wanted me to meet you. Why, I don't know, but whatever. Would you like to go to the café just a block down, and have a latte?"

Thalia blinks. She silently muses to herself how Percy-like that is, to go off about how the universe worked and all sorts of deep stuff then just casually link it back to daily life. "Sure," she smiles at last, even though she'd probably get in trouble with Artemis later, but she doesn't care, doesn't care, she'll at least have a coffee with her cousin before he slips away from her forever. "It'll be my pleasure."


	3. Chapter 3

Thalia sees her brother as a Hunter.

They stop in New York, or in what used to be New York, after taking down a pack of hellhounds and rescuing a pair of demigods. The Hunt is unusually quiet and solemn as they gather around the two demigods.

Thalia can tell they are siblings from the way their cheekbones curve and the hard line of their jaws. Her eyes trace the features she knows so very well, because—

She sees them in the mirror every morning.

They are both girls, and Thalia mentally starts to laugh as she imagines Jason's reaction to him being a girl in his next life. _'OMGs, you mean that I'm a girl? Like one of those impossibly hard to understand creatures that always cry whenever they see the Notebook?_ '

Then she stops her ADHD from getting away with her thoughts, because Jason's lower lip is starting to tremble, and he's—or rather, she's—only ten. So, so young, to be already pulled into the world of the Greek gods.

"What's your name?" She asks, bending down before Jason—her heart gives a painful lurch at seeing his—her—hollowed cheekbones. She hears Phoebe ask the other sibling a similar question, but her attention is focused on Jason.

Jason's cheeks flush. "I don't have one," she mutters softly under her breath, as though Thalia will look down upon her for not having a name.

To her credit, Thalia only pauses a second, too overwhelmed by anger for _what type of lazy, rotten, mortal parent did not give their child a name?_

"Your parents never gave you one?" She asks, and keeps her voice soft, for she doesn't know what reaction Jason will have to the mention of his parents.

Jason's fists clench a little. "They never bothered," he—she—says in that hard tone made of steel.

Thalia fights the urge to reach out and unclench that fist. "I'm sorry," she says, and she truly is, for everything that Jason—her little brother!—had been through.

Jason snorts. "Don't say that. It makes me feel as if—" His tone just rubs Thalia the wrong way, and she knows this isn't her brother.

Thalia cuts him—her, she needs to stop messing up the pronouns—off. "It makes you feel like they don't mean it, like they're just saying it for the sake of saying it."

Jason looks up with wide eyes. "I know the feeling. So don't act as if you deserve pity and all, because everyone here as been through the same thing you probably have, in one way or another." Thalia's voice rises in pitch at the end of the sentence, because this isn't her brother, this hard, tough girl/boy whose already acting like she's/he's on top of the world and deserves special treatment just because she/he has been treated badly before.

Jason's eyes are wide, probably because everyone's been walking on eggshells around him/her because it's been so, so long since they've last had a demigod, much less two, and no one wanted to let this chance slip through their fingertips. "Okay," he/she nods, and Thalia smiles. This is the brother she knows now.

"I'll call you Jay. Now, I bet you're hungry. Let's get breakfast." She rises to her feet and pulls the newly named Jay to hers.

Thalia takes Jay under her wing after that—the rest of The Hunt starts when they hear the news, because Thalia's not the type of person to take care of another without being assigned or anything.

Artemis just gives her a sad smile when she sees Jay and mouths, "I'm sorry," at Thalia during breakfast. She pretends she doesn't see it, because goddamned it, it hurts, it hurts like Hades when she sees her brother— _her brother!_ —smile and wave to her every morning without any idea that she's her sister. Just thinking that Thalia's kind and all. Without remembering all that they've been through together.

Sometimes she starts to crack an inside joke that only she and Jason will get because it's pathetically easy to just forget that Jay's not Jason, only to have Jay give her that blank look that tears open her heart.

But she lives with it. She pretends everything's all right, even though she knows Jay or herself will probably die one day and she won't ever get to see him again—for their lives to be entwined in one life is close enough, much less two, and she probably won't ever get to see those high cheekbones and the elegant curve to his eyebrows again, but who cares, at least she has him for the time she does, as short as it may be. And that's enough for her, at least.

* * *

 **So yeah, this is short. I wanted to make it longer, but I'm working on another story in my other account that I'm planning to reach 5000+ words with, and you know I usually write around 1500+, so this is more of an update to reassure you I'm not dead than anything else. Next one will definitely be longer. Preview:**

 _ **She sees Leo in a mental hospital.**_

 **As usual, REVIEW! (I'm evil.)**


	4. Chapter 4

**As promised, a longer chapter! It's about 5600+ words, which is about 12 word document pages,(and it's the longest I ever wrote, so I) hope you're happy.**

 **I usually don't write with a plan. I just plan out the first line and let my imagination do the rest. And this is what it gave me. I am so, so sorry. (And also, Zeus is kind of an a**h**** in this chapter, so if you love Zeus, I warned you…)**

 **Warnings: Swearing, (1 F-word) mistakes, (I don't have a beta, cause I like it that way, so all mistakes are mine.) maybe slightly OOC characters, (I have no idea whether they're OOC or not, sorry if they are) Major Character death (You have been warned. Don't read this if you're looking for light-hearted fluff.)**

* * *

She sees Leo in a mental hospital.

He looks like a teenager, but he looks like a child then, struggling and screaming and flailing about in the arms of the men holding him down. A guy in a white coat—a doctor, it seems to be—grabs him roughly by the wrist after ducking a flailing hand. Leo's black hair is matted and oily, and his voice is hoarse and raspy from screaming and tears are streaming down his cheeks.

Thalia has never seen anything so pitiful.

Leo shrieks louder, harder, and Thalia winces, clamping hands over her ears.

She turns to the nurse beside her. "Hey, why's that teenager over there crying?"

The nurse eyes her suspiciously, and Thalia mentally berates herself. She shouldn't have just asked that outright. But the nurse seems to want to ignore the abrupt question in favor of gossiping. "He's insane. He has nightmares. Terrible, terrible ones. He believes that they are dreams of his past lives. And he hallucinates. He sees so-called monsters. Of course, we know that's not real. Mark my words, sooner or later, they'll find out that there's something wrong with him." Her voice is full of scorn, and Thalia can only hear the _'There's something wrong with him,'_ over and over again in her head.

Thalia bites down hard on her tongue to keep herself from snapping and cursing the nurse out. Leo is not insane! He's just a clear sighted mortal. Slightly wacky, but certainly sane.

She ignores the nurse and turns to Leo again. Then she notices what she had missed before. Leo's eyes are scrunched close.

Nightmares.

She sucks in a startled breath.

Terrible, terrible nightmares.

Leo's dreaming.

"Terrible, isn't it?" The nurse sidles closer and Thalia watches, horrified, as the doctors drag Leo away.

"Why—how—what?" Thalia stutters, and she is so shocked she doesn't even berate herself for stumbling on her words in front of a _mortal._

The nurse looks grim, for once. "He was found in a foster home, tied to a chair and wailing his head off. It turns out that someone had a grudge against the head of the family and decided to murder everyone—bad choice—and he was last, but the murderer heard police sirens and ran off, forgetting all about him. The doctors think this might have affected his mental health in some way."

Thalia freezes in shock, and she stares at the door that swings shut as the doctors drag Leo inside.

Room 64B.

She turns to the nurse. "I'm here to visit someone. Can you tell me which room Clarie Elmsworth is in?"

* * *

"Create a distraction," Thalia blurts out as soon as she enters the room.

The Hunter that's half hanging out of the window spares her a glance. "What do you mean?"

"Oh, come back in," Thalia huffs, dragging Clarie back into the room by her collar. "You're fairly new. You didn't think this one out." Clarie bristles, but Thalia ignores her and sits the Hunter down on the bed.

"See?" Thalia gestures vaguely at the window. "There's a bunch of mortals there, unloading stuff from a truck, and though there's a lot the Mist can obstruct from their sight, there's a limit too. They will still see you. Plus," Thalia crosses her arms, and says sternly, "Weren't you thinking at all? Why'd you babble something about the Minotaur and hellhounds and say you need to kill them immediately? You know they'll find it suspicious! And just my luck, they thought you're mentally unstable and locked you up in this room."

"Well, sorry!" Clarie folds her arms too, glaring at Thalia. "I'm so sorry if I was slightly in shock from being ambushed and separated from the rest of the Hunt and thus blabbed something to the mortals!"

Thalia sighs and rubs her temples. Normally she would argue back, but she can feel a headache brewing already and she wants to get out of this room as soon as possible. The white washed walls blinds her and reminds her of the white walls she used to see her drunk mother smash beer bottles against. She doesn't like this place at all.

"I won't argue with you now. Let's just get out of here as soon as possible." Clarie opens her mouth, maybe to retort, but Thalia silences her with a death glare learnt from Nico. Oh gods, Nico… She hasn't thought of any of the demigods she used to love like brothers and sisters in so, so long, and her memory of them is frustratingly dim.

Thalia rids herself of the unpleasant memories with a shake of her head. "Anyway, I need you to create a distraction. I need to do something."

Clarie, sensing weakness, leans back and there's a self-satisfied smirk on her face, twisting her features into something cruel. "Why should I?"

"I just need to," Thalia hisses back. She hates having to ask her for a favor, but she needs—desperately—to do that something.

"Oh," Clarie tuts disapprovingly. "Wait till Lady Artemis hears of this, dear, dear Thalia not rescuing her fellow sister but instead blowing her off while she does _something._ Isn't this very suspicious?"

Thalia grits her teeth. " _Please_."

Clarie fakes surprise, hand covering her mouth. "Why, resorted to pleading now?"

"Is that a yes or no?" Thalia forces out.

"No, of course. We should be focusing on getting out of here, and not waiting for Thalia dear to do a certain _something_."

Something in Thalia snaps. She will _not_ tolerate this Hunter who has barely been in the Hunt for a few years step all over her, Thalia Grace, Daughter of Zeus, Immortal Lieutenant of Artemis. She will not allow this Daughter of some minor goddess—Eris, was it?—of chaos, strife, and discord to step all over her. Something in her breaks, and Thalia finds herself standing straight and staring at the Hunter in the eye.

"Daughter of Eris, I have been around four hundred and thirty nine years longer than you have. I have seen wars. I have witnessed the Second Titan War and the Second Giant War. I was the original candidate for the Second Titan War's prophecy, did you know that? I was friends with Perseus Jackson, Annabeth Chase, Luke Castellan, Frank Zhang, Clarisse La Rue, Reyna Ramírez-Arellano, Hazel Levesque, Leo Valdez, Nico Di Angelo, Piper Mclean, Jason Grace. In fact, Jason was my brother.

"Bet you didn't know that, huh? Cause all I am is the snarky Lieutenant, always giving orders and never allowing you all to have _fun,_ huh? Well, I'm trying to keep you all alive! How long do you think I have taken on this role? Four hundred and forty four years. I'm so, so tired of this all. Do you think I don't want to have fun, too? In fact, all I'm trying to do is save all of your fat asses and do I get any appreciation? No! So can you just help me _for once_?" Thalia exhales a shaky, shaky breath because all she's wanted to say for years now was out in the open.

She looks at the demigod, who is shivering now. "You knew Percy Jackson?" Is all Clarie can stutter out shakily.

"Yes. Percy Jackson was my cousin. I knew him well. So don't you dare just step all over me like I'm some random demigod you can find off the streets because, truth is, I'm not." Thalia says bitterly. "I have seen wars, things, horrors, that would haunt you, keep you up late at night, afraid to fall asleep."

Nothing can mask the strange glassiness to Thalia's eyes.

Clarie is shaking slightly now, and there's shame and awe and—curiosity?—in her gaze now. "What was the war like?" She asks, and Thalia finally understands the curiosity in her gaze. Daughter of Eris, discord, chaos, wars…

"It was horrible. You should be thankful you don't have to fight in one." Thalia says blandly. "Now, are you gonna help me or what?"

Thalia sees the fearful glance Clarie throws her way, and she smirks inwardly.

* * *

Thalia pauses outside the door of room 64B.

There's a commotion downstairs and a Hunter is missing from her room, but Thalia isn't worried about that at all. Clarie had put herself to good use for once.

She knocks on the door once, twice, thrice, and she hears a cheery, "Come in!" from the inside. She pushes the door open.

Thalia isn't sure what she's expecting, but it surely isn't an energetic boy bounding up to her and taking her face in his hands and staring. "Umm?" She mumbles and Leo hastily retreats back into the bed, face slightly red.

"Sorry about that. It's just been so long since I've seen someone aside from Doctor Boring No. one to six, it's just..." Thalia just tries to process all that Leo's rushed out in one breath as he fumbles for a word. She'd forgotten how fast Leo could talk.

"Refreshing," Leo decides, and then he leaps out of bed. "Yes, it's refreshing. I've been coped up here for years since the Government decided to be, so-called, 'kind' for once and support all the again, so-called mentally unstable kids."

"Whoa," Thalia cuts in before Leo can sprout any more irrelevant details. "Aren't you gonna ask why I'm here or anything?"

Leo blinks. "Oh yeah, I forgot about that. Why are you here?"

Thalia resists the urge to facepalm.

"I'm someone…" Thalia stops. How does she say this without coming off as a total weirdo?

"Yes, yes, you're someone, we all knew that." Leo rolls his eyes. "Elaborate please."

Thalia snaps out before she can stop herself and think of how to say it tactfully, "I'm someone from your past."

Leo sobers instantly. "So the dreams are true?" He asks, eyes wide and disbelieving.

"Tell me what your name is first." Thalia answers, because she's pretty sure if she doesn't start thinking of him as whatever he's called in this life, she'll slip and call him Leo.

He laughs bitterly, and Thalia doesn't know what to think. She's never seen him like that before. "My name is plain, old, boring James. I'm a nobody from a family of nobodies."

"Wrong," Thalia thinks. "You're Leo Valdez, and you're a brave idiot who sacrificed himself to save the world. And I don't think any of the Olympians will take kindly to being called nobodies either, but then again he isn't a demigod in this life."

She takes a seat by the wall. "Why're you here?" She already knows the answer, but she wants to hear it from Leo—James—himself.

"I see monsters. I have dreams. Dreams of past lives," Leo says, and there's a sort of grim acceptance in his eyes, like he's resigned to his fate. Thalia feels like hissing at Leo—James, whatever. The Leo she knows _does not give up,_ and he always finds a way to defy fate itself, find a way out of a problem deemed unsolvable.

Thalia has learnt a lot from Leo, and they had this kind of we're-friends-but-at-the-same-time-partners thing going on. They relied on each other. Sometimes, Thalia's eyes would be bloodshot, and Leo would nudge her, or when she was being too snappy, Leo would give her a warning glance. _Your façade is dropping._ Because, truth is, war, horrible childhoods that had forced them into being adults in teenagers' bodies had changed them, and a facade was more than necessary. Everyone has it, which was why Thalia would poke Leo when he started off into space, eyes holding a strange glassiness. They were partners.

After Leo disappeared, it was so, so hard to discover what to do and when had she gone too far. Leo had always warned her. And slowly, she grew used to it. But seeing Leo's façade on—something he had never seen the need to put on around her—something in her gut twists and her heart pounds a desperate, frantic rhythm in her chest.

She notices she's been staring off into space for a while, and Leo's staring at her, waiting for a response. She gives him one.

"What are your dreams like?"

Leo stares at her, bewildered, for a moment, as though nobody has actually sounded that interested before.

"I dream," he says, and the normally mischievous tone of his voice is gone, replaced by something foreign and new which Thalia doesn't know what to think of. He falters, but continues softly, "Of fire. Of everything related to fire. I dream of smoke and ashes and the bitter taste of smoke filling your lungs, of being surrounded by heat."

"And?" Thalia prompts. She knows there's more to it than what Leo's telling her.

Leo looks at her strangely, and Thalia realizes that maybe she shouldn't have read him so quickly, because really, strangers in a hospital room aren't supposed to know each other that well. But as she opens her mouth, Leo is already talking.

"I dream…of dying."

Thalia's fingers, originally drumming against her thigh, stills. "Dying?" Thalia asks, and her voice is weak and fragile.

Leo smiles sadly. "Yes. I dream of standing at the edge of a building on fire, and seeing a dark, dark figure outside, screaming and shouting and I can't make out the words. Then I run into the building and I drag screaming children out, one by one, still alive. Then when I'm about to get out, the figure screams words of warning, and I don't get it. I scream back at the figure, but I never hear what I say. Then the building collapses on me."

The room is silent. Thalia doesn't know what to think or what to say. "Only this one dream?" She asks, finally breaking the silence, and her throat clamps up on the last two words, so much she can barely choke them out.

"No, that's not all. I dream of flying, flying so, so high and it's like I'm involved in an explosion, I'm flying so violently upwards. And somehow I feel dread and excitement, like I know I shouldn't feel so high flying through the air—" he snickers. "The pun."

Thalia sends him a withering glare and he gets back on track.

"And I feel excitement, and I feel like I've never flown before, not even been on a plane, and it's so exhilarating. Then I'm falling, falling so, so hard and damn, I know the impact's gonna hurt like hell. Then I hit something metal and it creaks and squeaks and I understand it. It says not to worry and so I don't. I don't know why, but I always trust it. Then I crash and add every curse word you can think of in here because goddamn it, it hurts! Then I hear, 'Sleep, my hero.' And I sleep."

Thalia doesn't know what to think. So she doesn't. She leans back, tries to block all the warnings invading her mind— _did you hear that? Leo dreamt of his past life and of Festus and of landing on Ogygia and oh gods, that cryptic dream_ —and tries to pretend that they're not a poor, lonely mortal boy with horrifying dreams and a tired, tired daughter of Zeus, and are just Leo and Thalia.

It doesn't work.

"Monsters?" She questions after a while, unable to take the awkward silence.

Leo's eyes flicker with sadness. "Yes, I see monsters. Now go ahead and call me weird and insane, but I truly believe that they are _real._ " Leo's eyes stare deep into hers, and Thalia can't help but think this is so much unlike the Leo all the demigods knew, the one who always made sarcastic comments and bad puns in the face of danger.

No, this Leo she's looking at is _her Leo._ She's looking at the Leo that breaks apart like fragile glass pieces when he's alone, she's looking at the Leo whose smile drops off his face the minute he closes the door behind him. She's looking at the Leo she knows best.

And then she wonders if she should tell him the truth about the Greek gods. He is a clear sighted mortal after all. Maybe she should tell him now, two of them alone in a hospital room with no monster charging in to kill her. Maybe she won't ever get a chance to if she doesn't do it now.

But no, she wants Leo to have a few moments of peace. A while more of peace before he is thrust into the world of Greek gods, into a world where monsters lurk around every corner and where adults in teenagers' bodies are forced into growing up without childhood.

She's been thinking for so long Leo's eyelids start to droop with exhaustion. "You can sleep if you want to, you know," Thalia says as she watches Leo's eyelids flicker shut. He bolts up.

"Oh, no, it's just that they gave me some sleeping medicine—sleep medicine? Oh, whatever—earlier and I—" Thalia snorts and recognizes the words as what they are: an excuse.

"Just sleep, L—James." Thalia almost slips and calls him Leo, because that shameless smile he's giving her is so much like Leo's she stops thinking of him as James altogether. Her heart aches when she remembers that Leo Valdez, brave, insufferable idiot was gone and dead. All that's left in his place is this fragile, mortal boy with nightmares.

Leo—James—lies down and closes his eyes, but not before giving her a last grin that stretches the corners of his mouth so wide Thalia's sure it can fall off his face.

Why's Leo smiling like that, so widely, so trustingly at her? She hasn't seen such trust in a long, long time. Why would Leo just tell a so-called stranger—though she isn't one—his nightmares? Why would he trust _her,_ a girl who had just come into his hospital room demanding to know more about his dreams?

She leans back and watches Leo sleep, his breathing soothing and even. Thalia decides to wait till Leo woke up to ask him. And besides, she doesn't want to disturb him. There's peace on Leo's face, peace she hasn't seen in hundreds of years. Leo's face earlier was filled with sadness and anger and _why, why did this happen to Leo?_ Even Percy didn't get the nightmares. Why did Leo have them?

She leans out of the window, and stretches her fingers out into the cool air.

"Haven't you done enough?" She asks the wind softly, knowing that up on Olympus, gods are probably listening and enjoying her pain.

The wind whistles through her fingers, a silent question and a warning to tell her not to go overboard and say something she regrets later. But that's what she is sure beyond belief that what she's going to say has to be said, even if she gets blasted to ashes because of it.

"Haven't you tortured us enough?" She says quietly. The wind stops abruptly and the fate of the world seems to hang on her shoulders for one long moment and she isn't sure she has the courage to say it anymore. But she glances at Leo sleeping peacefully, and feels a surge of anger.

Then she's saying it, saying all that she's bottled up for years. Somehow, Leo brings out hidden reserves of strength she never knew she had, and she says all she's wanted to say for hundreds of years. "Leo deserves a happy ending. And he didn't get one in his past life. He's a mortal boy now, must you still haunt him? Why can't you let _someone_ have a happy ending _for once in your immortal lives?"_

The wind whips around her, strong now, and blows into her face strands of black hair. She tucks them behind her ear. Thunder rumbles. Is it true? It seems to be asking. Is it true? Take it back now, or else… The threat hangs in the air. Thalia doesn't care. She stopped caring a long time ago.

"So this is what you do again, huh?

The wind stops instantly, allowing her words to be heard clearly instead of being swallowed by the wind. Go on, the empty silence seems to say. Go on. Taunting her. She knows it, but she takes the bait anyway.

"And I'm tired, tired of this. You do know that there are many, many wars you brought upon yourself and even more you could have prevented if you weren't so paranoid and didn't let your pride get the better of you, right? No! You all just couldn't suck it up and take proper care of your children and do the duties that you are meant to do, instead you sit on your little thrones up on Olympus and pretended that you're ruling over the world!"

Then there's a pause, and lightning flashes straight at her and Thalia just manages to direct it away from her.

"So this is what you do, huh?" She repeats the words she said earlier. "Blast people to bits just because you don't like what they're saying, huh? Or maybe you're just afraid of hearing the truth." Thalia's eyes narrow challengingly, and she knows up on Olympus the same eyes narrow too. "The truth is that on Olympus, you all are acting like spoiled, selfish children, pettily squabbling over things that don't matter at all and just killing demigods or condemning them just because _you are bored._ "

Lightning flashes and thunder rumbles, a warning.

She ignores it. Now that she's started, it feels addictive, like a drug she can't get enough of. "You have ignored Percy Jackson's wishes. You have grown lazy and power hungry. You forgot all Percy gave up in order to let you all _see._ You have become corrupt." She shakes her head slowly. "I fear for our future under your rule, Zeus."

Not Father. He's no longer her father. Not Lord Zeus. She doesn't think he deserves to be called 'Lord'. Not Mighty King of the Gods. That one's pretty obvious.

And then she takes a deep breath and drops the bombshell.

"I can almost understand why Luke turned to Kronos."

And that's what does it. Lightning comes at her again, and Thalia freezes in shock. This lightning is so much more stronger, she can feel it, and unlike the one before, this one is _meant to kill._

She doesn't think she has the strength to direct it away like she did earlier. Zeus, her father, is going to kill her.

Thalia watches, frozen, as it races towards her, and all she can think is how ironic it is to die from lightning, her element, just as ironic as it would be if Percy had drowned. It races closer and all she can think is _if I die, will I truly find peace, knowing that in the world, the gods are still governing the demigods like dogs trained to do their bidding?_

And she exhales. This is no longer her war to fight. Let some other hero take over now. Just like she had let Percy be the hero of the great prophecy. Let her die. Let someone else replace her. She's tired of being the gods' pawn.

The lightning changes direction. She sucks in a quick breath, voice no longer cooperating. She wants to scream out in warning, but her voice doesn't work anymore.

The lightning races past her into the room, and her gut lurches. Leo. _Leo!_

No. She won't let Leo die. She won't. She throws her all into fighting the lightning, preventing it from hitting Leo.

Thalia doesn't know at the moment her eyes glow with power, electric blue and piercing and sharp, and her black hair floats out like she's in control of the winds, like Jason could.

"No!" A scream tears itself from Thalia's throat. Her stupid, uncooperative voice only decides to work then. Leo jolts awake, eyes flitting about in terror, and he spots the crackling blue lightning flying towards him and that's the point where she breaks.

Because of the pure, unadulterated fear she sees in his eyes a second before his doom.

The lightning hits the wires connected to the machine beside Leo's bed and she mentally laughs with glee, because _shediditLeo'saliveatleasttheidiothadthecommonsensetorolltothefloor_ and she's happier than she's been in a long, long time.

Outside, thunder rumbles and she growls out, "Fuck you, Zeus." She normally isn't one for throwing the F-word around but her father had just tried to kill his own daughter and the reincarnation of a Hero of Olympus.

Leo stares at her, eyes wide open in disbelief. "Did you just—what did you—" He fumbles for words, and normally Thalia would laugh at him, but no. Not now.

She spots the tip of a flame dart out from the smoke and destruction the lightning had caused and the remains of the poor machine. She looks at the remains closely. Oh no, no freaking way…

"No," she gasps, voice hoarse and raspy from screaming. "No!" She grabs Leo and sprints out of the room, dragging Leo along, and he stumbles alongside her.

The room they just left erupts in flames.

They run through the halls at a maddeningly slow pace, for Thalia at least, having to practically drag Leo along. Along the way, a nurse even berates them for running in the halls, and Thalia shouts that there's a fire. Her face turns white and they run past her.

They duck through crowds of doctors and nurses, most screaming in panic. They reach the main doors and throw themselves out before the mob inside tramples them.

Thalia takes in deep gulps of fresh air, relieved beyond words.

Doctors and nurses flood the area, one after another, pouring out into the grass at a frantic pace. There are no children with them. Thalia chuckles bitterly. How selfish can the mortals be, abandoning the mentally unstable children inside to…Thalia swallows. Die. They will die.

Thalia is not someone who wants to watch helplessly as people die, but neither is she a fool. She knows that she won't make it out of the building in time. Would Thalia sacrifice herself just so another could live to see tomorrow? Percy would go in an instant, always the hero, but Thalia's a coward.

She is. She's willing to let innocent children _die,_ just because she isn't willing to let herself die. She's selfish and she knows it well, but she just can't make her feet move. Just can't force herself to take one step towards the building going up in flames. She just can't.

And she doesn't need to. She recognizes the figure running towards the building on fire the moment she sees him.

"Leo!" She screams, and panic and fear mixed into one big mess. Dimly, she recognizes that this feels somewhat familiar, like maybe she's heard of this or dreamt of this scenario before. But this isn't a scenario. This is life and death and sacrifice in its purest form. "What are you doing?" Her voice is shrill with panic.

Leo stops and stares at her. "I'm James, not Leo. But Leo sounds familiar, like something you should know but doesn't, and it hovers at the edge of your mind, taunting you."

Thalia feels like stepping forward and hauling Leo away from that burning building. Though Leo probably won't budge, and Thalia really doesn't want to get closer to the fire. She eyes it cautiously. "Leo! James! Whatever! Come back, Leo." Thalia's voice drops and her heart stops for a second. The grim acceptance in Leo's eyes. And then she remembers his dream. No, it can't be, no, no…

"I have to. No one else will." Leo turns and runs into a building on fire.

Thalia screams. She doesn't know what she's screaming until she actually listens and realizes she's yelling, "Come back. Come back, Leo. I can't lose you again."

There's no reply.

She collapses on the dry grass and tries to blink away the panicked, frustrated tears that are welling up in her eyes. And she waits and she waits and she waits.

The wait is agonizingly long, and finally—finally, finally!—she sees a black figure that hauls two small children forward. They are wailing and Thalia can hear them from where she is, far, far away from the heat of the fire. Leo's alive. She wastes a precious second by just staring at that black figure. Leo's alive.

Then she leaps up and sprints as close to the fire as she dares. "Leo! You've rescued two lives, and you will rescue three if you come back!"

Leo, in true Leo fashion, waves and heads back into the fire to rescue more lives. She should have known. When had Leo ever listened to her?

Leo's relentless, only stopping when there's a pile of shouting children, crying and sobbing and some just staring blankly into space.

Thalia's a coward. She doesn't go into the flames, doesn't save a life, doesn't save _Leo,_ and she just hangs around outside the fire and shouts for him to come out.

He never listens.

Mortals—foolish, selfish mortals—only come forward then, holding fire extinguishers. Thalia's hysterical, feeling like she wants to sob and laugh at the same time. What good will fire extinguishers do? Only a son of Poseidon—like Percy, she gulps—can salvage this. Where were they just now, hiding behind one another, cowering like the mortals they were?

The fire leaps forward and Thalia can't help but think how much they look like hungry tongues, leaping and swallowing everything in reach. The fire spreads, licking at the ground. The building is completely on fire now, and _Leo the freaking idiot had better make his way out NOW and I will smack him into next week!_

She ignores the nagging voice at the back of her mind that screams, "Look at the building! Leo won't make it out now!" Leo _will_ make it out, no matter what.

And then she sees a dark figure on the ground, so, so close to freedom and fresh air. "Leo!" She screams, and her voice is raw with panic and fear and relief and hope, because Leo's so, so close to safety and freedom and Leo will surely make it out now—

She sees Leo, wreathed in flames, smiling a bitter, sardonic smile at her. He mouths something at her through all the smoke and ash and fire, something so bitterly ironic, something that should mean happily ever after but instead will forever symbolize sacrifice and death and destruction for her, and she feels like crying. _"I guess my dream came true."_

Then her mind goes blank and she can only feel grief and panic and fear and _whywhywhy did this have to happen? Why?_

The fire swallows the building whole.

Thalia doesn't know she's screaming till the Hunter she had come to rescue—when had she came?—puts a hand on her shoulder. "It's okay. It's okay," she repeats over and over again, calmly, like a nursery rhyme sang to make little children sleep.

"How could I?" Thalia doesn't realize she's screaming. "How could I have…"

She stares at the ground and the ashes that litter it, not even caring about the heat she feels on her face from the fire. "Ashes and fires and the bitter taste of smoke in his lungs…gods, Leo dreamed of this." She chokes on Leo's name. " _And I killed him_."

"What have you done?" She wails at the sky, no longer caring that she's causing a scene. Her voice drops to a whisper as she stares up the sky, a clear azure blue. She can see, in her mind's eye, a smirking, self-satisfied Zeus, sitting upon his throne, lightning bolt in hand. He had planned this all along. He'd meant to hit her where it hurt most, since he knew she had no desire to live anymore.

Her knees give way. She sinks to the ground.

" _What have you done?"_

* * *

 **(Long AN ahead…) I…I don't know what to say. I did warn you, at the start. And I killed Leo. I'm so, so sorry I killed him, (I actually like Leo) but he needed to die to make this work. (I feel terrible now, knowing I just killed Leo in order to get the 'feels'.) But I tend to gravitate towards darker themes, so somehow I'm not surprised. I suck at writing fluff.**

 **Believe it or not, Thalia's outburst(s) was actually pretty easy to write. The hardest would be Leo sprinting into the building and Leo *swallows* dying.** **But hey,** **at least he died a hero, right? He can try for the Isles of the Best!**

 **And I have no idea who I'm going to do next, so if you have a character and a scenario in mind you can PM me or write it down in your review. Thank you!**

 **Also, I usually update once a month, but my exams are over, and thankyouthankyou all of you for reviewing and favoriting me! I don't have time to reply to all of you, but know that I read all your reviews and am very grateful that some of you think my story is worth reviewing or favoriting. I'm rambling, aren't I?**

 **But whatever. Just remember to review!**


	5. Chapter 5

**Just a side note: Since Thalia's got to deal with Jason/Jay and Leo/James, I decided Thalia deserved a break… So I wrote this mostly in Hazel's POV, and thus my writing style might be different from usual. (And she might be OOC, but… Deal with it.)**

 **Anyway, before you all get bored and skip this, (which you probably did already…) shout out to Lost-In-A-New-World and inblindingdarkness for being there since chapter 1 and to fandomsforever2003 who always gave me ideas on who to write next! Thankyouthankyouthankyou to all who reviewed and those who actually bothered to read this!**

 **Now, the chapter…**

* * *

Enid's is pretty sure she knows the spiky haired girl opposite her who had just stolen her coffee.

She looks familiar, high, regal features, sharp cheekbones, perfectly curved eyebrows, blue eyes, and it reminds Enid of lightning, the way she had entered her booth like frightening, strange lightning, the way her tongue darts out to lick at her lips, the way her eyes dart back and forth throughout the restaurant, almost like she's looking for…threats.

Enid shakes herself out of her thoughts. It's not possible that this girl is on edge, New Stockingholm has been safe for centuries, there never had been a need to care for defending oneself.

She notices this girl's hand shaking slightly as she clutches the coffee that was hers in one tan hand, gripping it so tightly her knuckles turn white.

"Umm, excuse me?" She speaks up then, voice quivering slightly. "That coffee is mine."

The girl looks up at her—finally!—for the first time since she snatched her coffee away.

Then…

Everything stops.

All she can see is the girl's lightning blue, blue eyes, and she feels like she's been struck by the very lightning that resides in those irises. Emotions that she has never known the likes of wells up in her, _panic worry relief oh my freaking gods_ and all she can think of is lightning, crackling, bright lightning, racing towards her, calling something out in deep rumbles.

Her mind is foggy, and the world around her has been reduced to nothing but lights, white and yellow and then it's all gone and all she can see is _lightning blue lightning blue lightning blue—_

Then she blinks, and lightning blue is gone.

The next second there's _black black black_ everywhere then she feels something slam into her with the force of a speeding truck. She feels something warm wrapping around her and she looks up then she sees _lightning blue lightning blue lightning blue_ again.

Something pops into her mind, _Tha—_

"Gods, I missed you!"

Lightning blue is gone and she has a lapful of some girl who stole her coffee.

* * *

The girl whose coffee had been stolen is staring at her, intense and piercing and sharp, and Thalia thinks she will like this girl, because of the way she focuses on something like nothing else exists. That single-minded focus on something is what that's saved Thalia a dozen times. Then she hears the girl speak up, "Umm, excuse me? That coffee is mine."

She looks up at the girl for the first time and she freezes.

Gold. The color of her irises are gold.

Thalia is ashamed when her first thought is _Luke!_ Then _Kronos,_ then all thoughts vanish, all that's left is molten gold, valuable, precious gold, _gold gold gold gold,_ everywhere, the color blinding and it sticks out like a sore thumb in her memories.

Golden eyes.

Hazel.

Hazel. Hazel. Hazel.

She thinks of gold eyes and brilliant jewels and more and more and more gold.

Styx.

 _Hazel._

Then she's leaping across the table because _holy mother of Hera Hazel Hazel Hazel is here_ and she feels all too familiar relief creeping up on her, and this time she wants to hope, to hope that Hazel will get a happy ending and no scars of her demigod life will be left behind.

She tackles Hazel and practically shrieks, "Gods, I missed you!" Hazel seems disoriented for a moment, then— "What?"

Thalia freezes when she hears that.

No matter how many times she's seen the reincarnations of her friends, it still hurt like Hades whenever they look at her with the same familiar eyes and yet there's no recognition in them. And she thinks that maybe this was a punishment cooked up by the gods, or some kind of twisted entertainment for them. She has been faithful to them for hundreds of years—in fact, her thousandth birthday's next year—and she's still alive. She's still here.

She doesn't want to be here anymore.

Hazel's gold, gold eyes stare at her and Thalia feels all too familiar pain shoot up her chest and tear her heart apart. Hazel doesn't know her. Hazel never will in this lifetime. She won't remember exhilarating fights as a team against Jason and Percy—girls have to stick together, after all—she won't remember sunny afternoons and delightfully cold ice creams, she won't remember rainy days and sleepovers and pillow fights, she won't remember anything.

Thalia doesn't exist in Hazel's mind anymore.

That realization makes Thalia's chest hurt and her breathing shallow.

She doesn't exist.

All that's left to remember her will be ancient gods and goddess, and there will be one day when the name 'Thalia Grace' fades from existence entirely. There will be one day when there is no proof is that Thalia Grace once existed.

The memory of her will be erased from everyone's mind.

She won't exist.

That's what Thalia's mind echoes as she stares at Hazel, who's slowly inching out of her hug. All her sadness and joy, suffering and pain, will be gone. All that's she's ever fought for will disappear.

Hazel's mouth opens and reveals white teeth, almost blindingly bright. She says three simple words that Thalia has asked and had been asked millions of times before but they had never hurt more before.

"Who are you?"

Pain explodes in her chest and she doubles over, wheezing. _Hazel doesn't remember her Hazel doesn't remember no recognition in her eyes at all Hazel doesn't know her_ and she's expecting it, but the pain takes her by surprise again.

It hurts that her own cousin doesn't recognize her—there's not even a hint of familiarity in her eyes, unlike Percy's and Jason's, and it hurts like she's been dunked in acid and is witnessing an immortal becoming pure energy and is being forced to hold up the sky. The pain tears her out from inside out.

And steel slams down and covers her heart in a stiff suit of armor.

She doesn't want to get hurt anymore. She has felt enough pain for a lifetime, physically, mentally, and emotionally. She thinks she has enough scars already, ugly scars coat her chest.

She wants to stop living.

Hazel is giving her a concerned frown and Thalia gives her a wan smile. She knows she must seem insane, stealing her coffee then tackling her. "I'm sorry," she says, voice hoarse. "You just looked like someone I used to know." Thalia cracks a grin at the irony of the statement. "Not in any way related to that song."

Hazel looks at her, puzzled, and Thalia mentally smacks herself. This was a new time. That song is something long gone, lost in rapidly changing mortals' fashion. "Sorry, it's an oldie song my parents—" she winces when she remembers white walls and shattered glass and lighting blue, sharp eyes. "Used to listen to."

Hazel nods, seemingly satisfied by the statement, and they stare at each other in awkward silence for a moment. Then Thalia remembers the half empty coffee cup she holds in hand, clutching it so tight coffee is about to spill out. She forces her fingers to unclench and a sheepish look on her face. "Sorry 'bout that."

Hazel's eyes are piercing, sharp, and utterly unnerving. "Why would you steal my coffee?"

Because, Thalia thinks, she had just killed a pack of hellhounds outside—gods, she hated those creatures like nothing else—and was almost cleaved into two because she hasn't had her morning dose of coffee—stupid Mary, spoiling the coffee maker like that!—and had wandered into this café without realizing she was missing mortal money and oh gods, does she need caffeine! Hazel excludes a vibe that feels old beyond her years, ancient, and of course it was a reasonable error when she came to Hazel's booth and gulped down her coffee without looking. She had thought it was another demigod, old like her, out of place in this brightly lit café full of chattering mortals.

She wishes she had taken a closer look.

Thalia racks her brains for an answer Hazel won't be suspicious of. Gods, mortals were so much harder to convince this days since the Mist had weakened considerably a hundred years back. It still covers the bare essentials—monsters, demigod weapons, gods—but manipulating the Mist with a snap of her fingers were a thing of the past.

"My cousin," that's what she decides on saying, "Looks just like you from the back."

Hazel's eyes are the color of molten gold and it feels like they are probing into her soul, tearing down all the walls she has put up like nothing. She has no idea how long they stare at each other but Thalia can't take it anymore and looks away, her gaze darting to the table.

Hazel nods slowly, but she still looks suspicious. Thalia pretends the ache in her chest doesn't exist.

"Plus," Thalia grimaces and sticks out her tongue. "You should definitely add more milk and sugar to that."

Hazel laughs, and it's sharp and abrupt and utterly pleasing to the ear. "Yes, I probably should."

They grin at each other and Thalia's chest stops aching.

* * *

"Give me your number," Thalia says, already taking out her phone.

"Thank Leo," she grins discreetly to herself as she types in her password. Leo had tinkered around with the idea of monster-proof phones abroad the Argo ll, as everyone later discovered, and the Hephaestus cabin had took it upon themselves to honor his memory by finishing his invention.

Her mood darkens as she remembers Leo, or rather, James, and as she thinks of his fiery demise, tears prick at her eyes and she hurriedly blinks them back. It won't do to apparently cry over a measly phone.

She hands over her phone and watches as Hazel enters her number into her phone.

She freezes as something occurs to her and barks out a laugh. "Have you realized that we've been talking for two hours and yet we don't know each other's name?"

Hazel's laugh is drawn out and utterly beautiful. "My name's Enid."

Thalia thinks, "Wrong. Your name is Hazel and you're my cousin." She doesn't say anything though, and just smiles at her. "Thalia."

* * *

When Enid gets home she finally realizes all the weird phrases Thalia had used. "Oh my gods, what the Hades?" She mutters, and chuckles to herself when she thinks of the ancient Greek mythology she used to love.

"It's almost like… She believes these gods are real," Enid breathes. "Are they?"

For one split second her mind fills with images of a black haired boy with sea green eyes and a bronze sword in hand, standing next to a blond girl with sharp grey eyes and a dagger in hand. She thinks of orange t shirts and purple togas, she thinks of beautiful yet fatal jewels, she thinks of horrifying monsters and then a word, _Hazel Hazel Hazel Hazel_ —

Then she blinks, and everything is gone.

"They can't be," she says shakily. "They can't be."

Can they?

* * *

 **I'll admit, this wasn't my best piece of work, but still review?**

 **(I changed the story category to angst. Probably should have done that earlier, but meh.)**


	6. Chapter 6

**Dedicated to everyone who has stuck with me since chapter 1, ignoring my completely messed up updating schedule and basically all the drama and stuff that gives you the 'feels'.**

 **So. I had writer's block, wrote the first two paragraphs and just left it alone and pretended it didn't exist just so I didn't need to deal with this. So this is basically a messed up pile of crap, cause it's basically me struggling to produce something worth reading.**

 **I feel so bad now, knowing I made you guys wait for so long for this crappy work.**

 **Review please, even though this sucks?**

* * *

Frank's completely different in this life.

Instead of being a big, cuddly teddy bear, he's so unmistakably different Thalia doubts herself for a moment, because this—this _man,_ he's all hard edges and straight, bold lines and _what happened to the Frank she knew, who was all soft lines and gentle curves?_

She only dares whisper the answer to herself as she stands in the dark, blending in perfectly with the shadows. _He's changed,_ she whispers, and the answer brings more questions. He's changed? What do you mean by changed?

I mean… Her mind thinks before it goes silent, because the answer is too dreadful to even think about.

 _Maybe he's gone,_ a cruel little voice inside of her screams. _Maybe Frank is gone, and he's never coming back. Maybe Frank himself is gone, lost in all the other contrasting personalities all his reincarnations had. Maybe the Frank she knew is gone, and all that's left in his place is this mortal man with eyes too stern and a mouth drawn too tight._

 _Maybe._

No! She wants to scream. I know Frank is still in there somewhere. He's not gone. He's still in there somewhere. I believe he still exists. I believe the Frank who is soft and cuddly and all smooth, gentle lines exists. I believe.

The voice doesn't say anything else, it just smirks and whispers mockingly, _Yeah, sure. Of course._

She clenches her fists, aware that she's angry at a voice of her own imagination. _Shut up!_

She turns her attention back to Frank—or rather, not-Frank—who's standing calmly against a tree. A pine tree, she notes, and tastes bile on her tongue. She does not like pine trees anymore, not since she was turned into one.

Not-Frank's silent and still, and really, if she hadn't known he was here from the start she might have mistook him for part of the pine tree.

Her ears pick up the slightest hint of noise—not-Frank is whispering?

"I'm scared."

She creeps closer, ears straining.

"Help me, somebody."

The little, cruel voice inside her head is silent.

"Help me."

Thalia holds her breath.

"Help me, _please._ Somebody. Anybody. Help me!"

Thalia's breath catches in her throat and she remembers horrible dreams and a scrawny boy and partners and a little boy in the alley, blue, blue eyes looking into hers, she remembers a scared little girl with big, big grey eyes, she remembers eyes that pleaded _help!_ and trembling fingers and tears that refused to fall. She remembers white walls and the horrible smell of alcohol and shattered glass and blood and cuts and hoping somebody would see the clues and put two and two together. She remembers hoping for help that never came.

"What do they mean?" Not-Frank tries to whisper, but even the slightest hint of his voice carries and he gives up, talking louder and louder. Thalia's heart aches when she thinks of Frank who had to strain for his voice to be heard.

"What do the visions mean? Tell me, what do they mean?" Not-Frank's voice grows loud and demanding, and Thalia thinks maybe the cruel voice is right, maybe Frank is completely gone.

His voice drops but it still echoes. "Why do I collapse at work dreaming of a bow and arrows? Why do I feel like I can change into anything after one of this visions? Why do I always think, for a single second, 'The Seven' in my dreams? Why do I dream of jewels I know I shouldn't touch and why do I dream of four letters, 'SPQR'? Why? What's happening to me?"

Visions, Thalia thinks. She flinches when she remembers nightmares and monsters and a scrawny boy with eyes too old for one his age and weak smiles that fooled everyone. Everyone except her.

 _She remembers Leo._

She squeezes her eyes tightly shut. She will _not_ remember Leo, she will not remember terrible, life-taking fires and sacrifices and dreams. She will _not._

It doesn't work.

The images flood her mind, one after the other, all of Leo.

Leo grinning, sweaty but triumph in his eyes as he raises a hammer and yells, "The Argo ll is finished!" Leo giving her such a genuine smile it makes her heart ache when she's the only one who comes and reminds him to eat. Leo shattering like a glass vase in the comfort of his room. Leo with flames swirling on his fingertip, eyes reflecting burning orange, fire, Leo…

It's no surprise when she steps on a branch and the sound echoes through the woods. Not-Frank's head snaps around.  
"Who's there?" He demands loudly. "Come out!"

Thalia wants to stay put, surrounded by darkness and the chirps of crickets and the tiniest hint of hope. If she comes out she will have to talk to the person who was once Frank. She will study him and maybe she won't see Frank at all in his mannerisms. Maybe not-Frank's everything Frank never was. Maybe if she comes out she'll realize that Frank is forever lost, and she needs to cling to that tiny bit of hope.

She needs to.

Because maybe she won't ever see any of her friends again, and they're lost in the ever changing personalities each reincarnation has. Maybe they're forever gone. Maybe they'll never be coming back.

Maybe she'll never see Percy's crooked grin or those blue, blue eyes again, maybe Annabeth will be shy and secretive, maybe Nico will be popular and maybe Piper will be vain and conceited and maybe they would have happy endings this time round.

Maybe.

She steps out from the shadows and allows the flickering lamplights to illuminate her face.

She needs to know.

She just can't hide in the shadows and allow this—whoever this is, Frank or not—to just walk past her and spend decades wondering. Regretting.

And maybe it's a bad decision but all Thalia can think about is stern features and furrowed brows and tension in shoulders and hard lines to mouths.

Everything about him is hard, from the lines of his shoulders to the hard set of his mouth to the way his eyes pierce through Thalia like his gaze is the arrow and she's the rabbit.

She feels liquid on her cheek and wonders if it's starting to rain.

She swipes at her cheek.

The liquid is warm.

She's crying.

It bewilders her.

 _Why is she crying?_

She feels a warm tear roll down her cheek.

 _Why is she crying?_

She doesn't understand.

 _Why is she crying?_

Stop crying, she tells herself. Frank—not-Frank is watching.

The tears won't stop.

Thalia rubs at her eyes furiously. _Stopstopstopstop crying!_

They keep coming, and they can't—won't—stop.

And finally she gives in, and sobs, because she doesn't care anymore that not-Frank is watching and it feels good, good to cry, good to feel warm liquid travelling down her cheeks, good to allow herself to sob for the first time in a long, long time.

She steals a look at not-Frank out of the corner of her eye. Blurry as her vision is, she can see not-Frank scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. Her heart leaps for a moment—that was Frank's nervous habit!

That cruel voice cuts in. "A lot of people have that nervous habit, Thalia dear," it says in Aphrodite's sugary voice. "It doesn't mean anything."

And Thalia knows it doesn't, but hope is filling up her insides, because maybe, possibly, Frank is here.

Maybe.

She hates that word.

It will be much better if everything was black and white, the evil villain and the good hero, and there wasn't a lump of emotions right there, gray and gloomy and messing everything up. She wants everything to be crisp and clear, black and white, good and evil, dark and light.

But it isn't.

It's possible you might love the villain; it's possible if you don't know where you lie in between black and white. It's possible you aren't evil; it's possible you aren't good.

Maybe is full of possibilities she wish isn't there.

She can hear not-Frank muttering to himself under her breath, "Shit shit shit did I scare her umm what should I say umm—" and her heart leaps.

"Umm…" not-Frank—or maybe Frank—says, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. "Are you all right?"

Thalia feels light, light with hope and joy because although this man is all hard lines and edges his voice is awkward and soft and it holds nervousness she never thought could ever be hidden in those bold lines.

Thalia sniffles. "I'm fine," she croaks out, and her voice breaks and cracks in places it shouldn't, and she wheezes out, "I'm fine" again when not-Frank— _maybepossiblyperhaps Frank—_ looks at her doubtfully.

"Umm… Are you sure? Cause you, umm, don't really look fine to me…"

Her lips twist upwards in an involuntary grin, because not-Frank—maybe Frank?—looks so awkward and so much like Frank her gut twists and her heart screams, "This is Frank. This is Frank. Frank exists. He's real."

That cruel voice tries to muster a whisper, but it's drowned out by her joy. _It's Frank it's Frank it's Frank,_ and she can't remember the last time she feels so light.

Thalia grins, and she knows she must look like a manic, crying and smiling and hiding in the trees, but she doesn't care. It's Frank. It's the adorable teddy bear she's known since day one.

Frank looks at her weird, and says, "Umm… Okay? Why are you out here alone anyway? Where do you live? Do you need me to take you back?"

Thalia grins. It's Frank, through and through.

 _Hah! Beat that, sucker!_ She screams at the cruel voice that isn't there anymore, and she can't remember how to act normally anymore because Frank is right here in front of her and he's Frank.

Then she remembers Frank staring at her in bewilderment, and she says, trying hard not to let her joy show, "Oh, just that road out there."

Frank nods slowly, not quite convinced, and asks, "Are you sure you'll be fine? Do you want me to walk you back?"

So she takes a risk and maybe she'll regret it later, but all she can think of is that cuddly big teddy bear Frank is back and he's not gone and that cruel voice was lying and she wants so much to spend more time with him and know about him. So she says, "If it's not too much trouble? It's not too far."

Frank relaxes and he nods, and together they step forward, a man large and buff and all bold lines and a slim girl all smooth lines and grace.

Their shoes crunch against the fallen leaves and the wind whistles through the trees and the moon is shining brightly and illuminating their faces in the prettiest way possible.

And Thalia knows well she's much more skilled than this man, that if an enemy attacks she'll be better equipped to protect herself than Frank, but impossibly, in that one moment, surrounded by darkness and the sound of crickets chirping and leaves rustling, impossibly, she feels, for one second—

 _Safe._

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 **(Long AN ahead about Leo and Thalia…**

 **Okay. So. If anybody thinks that Thalia is thinking a tad too much about Leo and cries way too much it's becoming too OOC, and I know what this behavior suggests, that she** _ **maybeperhapspossibly**_ **likes Leo, but remember, Thalia has had a hard childhood. She grows up with only her brother and then her brother's taken from her. She's never been able to rely on her parents. When she wakes up after being turned into a tree, Luke's a traitor. She doesn't let anyone in easily, and when she does that person is forever in her heart. She let Leo in, and he let her in, and that's why Thalia thinks about him. I hope I cleared everything up if you had the doubt that maybe Thalia likes him.**

 **Also, if anyone is wondering why Annabeth hasn't shown up yet, she will be in the very last chapter I write for this story. (But don't worry, the end is nowhere near.) And I think I will do more characters like Travis and Conner and Katie and Clarisse and maybe Ethan because it's always about the Seven and the rest of them deserve chapters dedicated to them.**

 **Review please even though this chapter is messed up?**


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